This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..



by John Yeo

I sit here alone on the shore, head in hands,

The horizon promises escape to far distant lands.

There is no hope at all, the future looks bleak,

I feel I am nothing, a microscopic freak.

Somehow nothing goes right, however I try,

If I had the power and wings, I would fly.


Fly away to anywhere to seek answers to life,

There is no hope in the sky to undo my strife.

No hope on the beach where I sit full of grief,

The seabed is crumbling with horror beneath.

There are no answers forthcoming, I have the impression

That will lift the heavy cloud of my inmost depression.

Then a seagull alights, a handsome solitary bird


Bringing life to the shore foraging without a word.

News Flash:Bird flu will bring the next pandemic.

I need compassion with love bringing hope

I look to the sky with my faith, to revoke

These feelings of dread and I whisper a prayer

For something beyond,  for someone to care.

My mind is a whirl of sad inmost thought.


No answers were given to the questions I sought.

I drift back to my childhood of long sunny days,

Flowers were everywhere along the lanes and byways

The skies were blue and the sun always shone,

The birds sang sweetly, it was good to be young.

Then love and heartbreak and love once again.

I sit here alone and cry to allay the pain,

Soaking up the power of pandemonium and persuasions.

© Written by John Yeo~ All rights reserved.

Note …. This poem is a work of pure fiction and in no way relates to my personal reactions to the pandemonium and persuasions that will always be the lot of some unfortunate people.


This article  was written for “QUINTET,” our Parish magazine, requesting submissions on the theme of Christmas Presents


Image ©️Copyright John and Margaret ~ All rights reserved


by John Yeo

 The Jackson family were well-known to everyone in the village, regular churchgoers they had made many friends over the years. Speculation had it that branches of the family had resided in this village since the days of William the Conqueror.
Tom Jackson had passed away five years before; he had been a churchwarden, chairperson on the Parish council and his wife Gina had been the hon.treasurer.

Their two sons, Ricardo and Ernesto had been a great comfort to their Mother.

Ricardo became a special forces soldier, serving in Afghanistan, with the SAS. Infrequent letters would arrive, describing the horror of war and his narrow escapes from the enemy. “We are involved in battles before they are officially fought, our undercover forces are on the attack. Our forces are involved in dogfights all over the city,”

One fateful day in November a telegram arrived Ricardo was missing in action, a hero who had saved many lives.

 Gina was devastated, many parishioners rallied around offering help and support. The situation for the family was looking grave, with Christmas the season of goodwill just around the corner.

 Then, without any warning Ernesto, her younger son was diagnosed with advanced kidney disease forcing him to undergo dialysis three times a week. Gina was absolutely shattered and asked for his name to be included in the church prayers list. A kidney transplant was the only solution.

Then one memorable day there was a knock on her cottage door and Ricardo her eldest son stood in front of her smiling. “Hello, Mum! I’m home! I escaped and I have some leave to use up.”

Shocked, Gina could hardly believe her eyes. “Welcome, home son!” Was all she could say with tears in her eyes.

When Ricardo heard about the plight of his brother Ernesto, he was quick to offer one of his own kidneys, which was obviously a perfect match.

Christmas Day arrived, and old Jeb the gardener displayed the perfect Christmas rose in Gina’s garden. “What an unbelievably beautiful rose, they say everything comes in threes. I have been blessed with three perfect Christmas presents.”

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved